


Forbidden Flames - Draco x Reader

by echappe



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Christmas, Christmas fic, Drinking, F/M, Father/Daughter Incest, Grief, Incest, Loneliness, Love, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, Underage - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-02
Updated: 2020-11-02
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27340612
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/echappe/pseuds/echappe
Summary: WARNINGS: incest, father/daughter incestThe Malfoy family continues to grieve the death of Astoria. Her absence is especially strong on Christmas, a day the woman used to make special for all her family. Draco takes to drinking with his daughter, recalling all the times he wished she was in Astoria’s place- and realizes that without his wife, he can make all those fantasies a reality.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader, Draco/Daughter Reader, Draco/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 47





	Forbidden Flames - Draco x Reader

**Author's Note:**

> I originally planned to make this a Tom Felton fic. which occurred on Halloween and included a number of other details that went unmentioned in this version. If you want a Tom Felton x Daughter (incest) piece, just comment and I’ll start it!

Just a year had gone by since the passing of Astoria Greengrass, but her absence never went unnoticed in the Malfoy Manor. Y/n, just an adolescent when her mother left, would always be reminded of her on Christmas; a holiday the family of three tried their best to enjoy but struggled to tremendously.  
The manor was decked out with reminders of the season, but there was no one there to enjoy it. Astoria would have thrown a party, there would have been music and chatter and dancing, though this year the halls were silent. Draco knew this wasn't how his wife would want him to spend the holidays, he knew she would have had him do something special for Y/n and Scorpius but it was so difficult to find the energy to do anything merrily. His daughter was just as depressed as he; and the contrast of the lonely mood of the house and the decor which reminded them of what was, didn't aid in achieving any kind of joy. The reminder of the memories that could have been forced an ever darker feeling on the home.  
Christmas Day had been uneventful, the head of the house was particularly uninspired to go out his way to celebrate. He thought it'd be evil and an insult to Astoria's memory to disregard the holiday entirely. Draco bought his children gifts and ate breakfast with them, what would have been a satisfying celebration for many was just a shadow of the December that could have been- had Greengrass been there to see it.  
It had been many hours since Y/n had gone off to her room, no doubt hiding her disappointment from her father- and Draco couldn't pretend he was alright either. It still felt wrong to finish the day without a few words to Y/n when they both knew they were grieving.  
Draco had just retrieved a bottle from the wine cellar, deciding that with nothing else to fill the void, he could at least try to get drunk. He resided out on the spacious balcony of a room he used to share. As such is the nature of the Malfoys- it's an overdressed space with furniture and cushions and decor. He sat out on the loveseat too big and too lonely to house one person.  
He thought for a moment that it would be the same... that exposing himself to the setting he and Astoria shared frequently would bring some form of comfort; but it seemed the night was far darker and colder without her presence. Actually, he's not sure if it's her presence he's missing... Draco feels something in his chest, excitement maybe? But, for what? The man realizes that he does not have to drink alone this evening, and that there is warm company within his grasp. Draco glances over at the chair beside him that Astoria used to occupy, and instead thinks of Y/n there with him. She had always had a calming presence, maybe it was because she was beautiful (and although he'd never say it aloud, more so than her mother) or soft-spoken. Draco closed his eyes and thought of her for a moment, for he admired the girl far more than he'd care to admit.  
She is rather gorgeous, he thinks, images of Y/n in her soft lilac night gown accompany him. He notes how shiny her hair is and how her soft is her skin; though Y/n's eyes had always been his favorite thing about her, even when her voice was so comforting. Draco recalls fighting with Astoria in that very place on a night quite similar to the one he was living- how he had wished he had invited Y/n instead. No, it was wrong to ever compare the two in the same light. Draco stops himself as he realizes the contrast he has just made, and promises he will never again think of Y/n in the way he just had, no matter how desperate he gets.  
Desperation had other plans, it seemed. For Draco was outside Y/n's bedroom door in a matter of seconds. He couldn't quite recall how he had gotten there, but he knew he needed her. Y/n creaked open the door and smiled warmly at her father, had he knocked already? The man was frozen for a moment, feeling unprepared and maybe a bit unworthy of the situation. Y/n raised her eyebrows in confusion, which knocked her father out of his momentary trance. "Care to drink with me?" He asked finally. Y/n blushed, considering the fact that she was a bit too young to consume alcohol and certainly didn't expect her first invitation to do so to be with the one person supposed to discourage her from such actions. Despite this, Y/n still nodded shyly and followed Draco to his balcony.  
She settled happily into the cushioned chair. Draco paused a moment before pouring he drink, wondering if it was right to bestow the burden of his loneliness on his young daughter. He wanted to believe she appealed to him solely because she was all he had, but that was not the truth; he had Scorpius and Narcissa. Draco had always valued the company of his daughter over his son or mother, not because she was his child but because she was a beautiful young women he couldn't help but admire. Was it right to put her in the same place as Astoria, considering the true nature of their relationship? Was he grossly using his daughter to fill a void meant to remain empty? Was it right to-  
"Are you alright, father?" Draco snapped out of his thoughts, finally handing her the glass. For the first time in a long time, the man found he could smile "Yes, I'm alright." He replies, doing everything he can to sound convincing. Y/n flashes a smile Draco can't see, she doesn't want this to be a sad affair. A comfortable silence falls over the two as they each become lost in thought. Y/n wants to remember every bit of this moment: the abundance of stars, the chill breeze, the view of the garden below... she focuses on the sounds of crickets chirping and water falling from a nearby fountain.  
It was the first moment of peace either one of them had experienced since the incident. Y/n had grown concerned that something was on Draco's mind, maybe the reason as to why he felt he needed her that night. Not wanting anyone to spiral into dark thoughts as he so frequently did, Y/n knew she needed to say something to catch him off guard. She swirled the wine in her glass for a moment before smiling, having finally come up with a proper phrase that would both surprise and poke-fun at the older Malfoy.  
"You look an awful lot like Lucius, you know that?" Draco scoffed, "Please don't say that,". Y/n couldn't help but giggle "I'm not saying it's a bad thing, you're both handsome, you just look like him more than usual." The girl crossed her arms over the arm of the chair and rested her head on them, making eye contact with Draco which inadvertently caused his breath to stop. She was just like he had imagined; her eyes sparkled under the stars, her hair and skin looked soft and inviting, he yearned to touch them. Draco averted his eyes, trying to find something else to think about that wasn't Y/n's presence or Astoria's absence, but it seemed his options of thought were limited. He smiled to himself, having finally formulated a response equal to hers. "Well," he set down his glass and finally faced her "...I think you're drunk."  
"Drunk? I don't think Malfoys get drunk, good sir."  
"I'm quite sure we do, and you are."  
"Why?" She smiled playfully, "Because I said you look like your father? Wine or not, all Malfoys look the same." She swallowed the last of what was in her glass. Draco couldn't disagree with her, she was growing to look more like Narcissa everyday. Yes, that's what she was: some of Narcissa, some of Astoria, and a new tranquility the Malfoys had needed for generations. Draco looked up at the stars, grateful for the fact that Y/n did not carry such hatred that ran through most pure-blood veins.  
"This tastes much stronger than the stuff I drink with your mom," she commented, waiting for her father's expectantly appalled reaction.  
"My mother let you-" but by then Y/n was cackling over the sound of Draco's voice, he couldn't help but laugh with her "...of course she did." He shook his head and looked away from her, subconsciously trying to hide his smile. His eyes were drawn back at the sight of Y/n, head thrown back in a fit of laughter, it had been so long since he heard that laugh... it was hypnotizing.  
Draco feels something, which was a rather rare occurrence those says. Something comforting. It feels like a small flame which warms his heart (many had claimed froze over). Y/n has experienced this strange emotion as well, like an invisible presence which delivers tranquility and peace. They have both seen a shadow of hope, just a small flame somewhere out there that will lead them back to safety. Draco has seen this flame many times but can never seem to locate it, he's spent years trying to find what this strange beacon of hope was, and why it teased him so. Why was it so insistent on wondering wildly? In an empty forest it looked like a nymph, a small fairy which hid behind trees and jumped into flowers the second Draco thought he had finally found it. He made endless attempts at locating the spark, he tried to find it in women that never stayed, drugs that always wore off, and alcohol that was never enough to keep him buzzed. He didn't know what it was that occasionally brought him comfort entirely without rhyme or reason, maybe he was schizophrenic, maybe he was suicidal and looking for joy. He thought maybe that was Merlin trying to get him to pull through for his daughter. Whatever it was, Draco could never locate the key factor in what brought him this odd joy,

Y/n had long since located the source of light, and she was petrified of it. 

Y/n settles further into the chair, choosing to lie across it with her head and legs supported by the arms. Draco sighs, noticing his breath becoming frosted as he does so. He looks over at Y/n in her nightgown which can't cover nearly enough skin to keep her warm. He notices now how she shivers and tries to stay comfortable, "You're freezing, darling, come here." The girl stands, cringing as her toes meet the cold tile, when had the air gotten so chilly? She raises her hands to the sky, stretching a moment, before settling beside Draco.  
He takes his wand out of his pocket and gestures for a blanket on his bed to come outside. Y/n is surprised when the cloth levitates around her body, she gasps slightly, happy to have the sudden warmth. Draco can't help but admire her further, she was even more beautiful up close. He pulled the girl closer to himself, which Y/n was grateful for. They were physically much closer than Astoria would have allowed- but she was gone and that's just what it took to keep the pair's emotions at bey.  
Y/n was more drunk than she realized and having never experienced such a sensation before, had little to hide the lack of sense that took over her. Now, she was navigated purely by need. Need to be held closer by Draco. Y/n wrapped her arms around his waist and sleepily cuddled into his neck, making soft noises of satisfaction and approval. It was Draco's responsibility to take care of her, he knew that, he knew she was acting out because of the alcohol- she had a right to, he had exposed her knowing his daughter had never tried it before.  
There was nothing wrong with the position though, was there? She would have cuddled him like that as a child, why would it be any different just because Y/n was older? She was happy as a clam, curled up next to Draco. He kept his arms around her, letting his fingertips graze her skin; Y/n gasped at the sensation, which forced her to take in his oh so comforting scent of firewood and expensive cologne, she recognized this as safety. The girl was too caught up in the ecstasy of the moment to notice any change in behavior. Draco's breathing stopped cold when he felt her nuzzle her nose into the base of his neck, letting her mouth graze his collarbone. He instinctually gripped the fabric her shirt, making Y/n realize her mistake. She was immediately taken aback, wanting to apologize repeatedly for her wildly inappropriate show of affection, she didn't know what had come over her, Y/n swallowed hard as her eyes and mind panicked, searching desperately for proper words.  
Draco saw something in her eyes that was anything but a product of narcotics, it was so genuine it released her from the brain fogging material in her system. Y/n had let something slip, the alcohol dissolved every barrier she had put up in attempts to shield herself from the light. This feeling was not caused by the drink, it was revealed by it.  
There's something there, a flame about to die: he knows he could extinguish it, or maybe let it fade on its own. Draco knows that to do absolutely nothing would cause the pair to grow apart, what was between them was more than unnatural; it could be lost simply by leaving it alone. He knows it will never be extinguished completely, the fire will only be contained; it will slump down to the size of the last morsels of a candle wick, one that can never be rid of entirely but can always be contributed to.  
It could also, however, with proper fuel and care, grow to be a comforting campfire; one that creates warmth on freezing nights and serves as a necessity for survival. Still, this flame needs so much more care to contain, a simple slip up could lead to the complete desolation of everything that surrounds it. There was so much risk in the fire, but upon finally feeling the heat of it- the promise of comfort on cold nights, a light in the dark, a friend in an empty field, hope where there was none... it appeared to be a sign of life. The fire was so terribly inviting but it never pretended to be harmless.  
Her skin was so much like the flame that was their love, it was warm and inviting in small doses but could be the end of all things when taken too greedily; the end of Draco Malfoy. He didn't know if he could contain the flame if it were to be ignited and often he felt as though he had no choice.  
Often it seemed just an illusion, an idea created by a man starved and frozen in the cold; but he saw it. He couldn't believe it, having searched for so long, he finally witnessed the fire with his own eyes- it was located in the most treacherous and god-forsaken place it could be, in his daughter's eyes.  
Y/n retracted her head just slightly, but the wine took everything she had to hide the shame she felt in that moment, the girl was left completely vulnerable. She knew this, in fact she looked a little frightened. Frightened of the all too familiar comfort her father shouldn't have brought her; she, too, thinks the fire must be an illusion. It must be a mythical creation of a girl who has been lost in this dreadful, cold place for years; it's the product of a hypnosis to give her something to keep going, something to hope for, something to hold on to... Y/n realizes she has wondered far too close to the flame, even if she believes it isn't really there, what if it is? What if the fire is only meant to be a beacon of hope? What if God will only allow it to be so large? What if she tries to fan the flame and ends up blowing it out? Then, there would be nothing... nothing but pain. Nothing but isolation. Nothing but the empty void and the memory of something that never was.  
She watches as it flickers in Draco's eyes and he knows he has a choice. He should step on it, for the good of both parties Draco knows with his heart, body, and soul that he needs to extinguish it; even if it means he'll die alone, frozen, and without anyone to hold- he needs to rid of this poison.  
Draco also knows that there is no middle-ground, fire and gasoline do not negotiate. They do not decide that in small doses that no harm will be done; there will be peace or there will be war. He decides he will look her in the eyes and do what is right, he will smother the flame even if it kills him. But, it's his only form of life support, and there is no guarantee that it will grow out of control, Draco wants to believe there is a chance that the fire will be for as long as it needs without burning anyone.  
He knows now the flame is no illusion, but the idea that he can control it, is. He wants to believe that a kiss is just a kiss and that it will burn him; he wants to believe that her lips will leave him running and screaming for frigid waters. He wants to believe that he will sprint deeper into the forest, praying he suffers a winter far worse than this that will give him what he truly deserves. He thinks maybe he will apologise to the Lord that he ever forsake him, he will apologise for even considering touching that which is forbidden.  
So, he glances down at her lips, red from the cold, and thinks nothing could go wrong; because a kiss is just a kiss, and if that is what it takes to teach him that fire is not to be played with, then so be it, he'll blame it on the alcohol. Even if there is an eternal tension between them afterwards, neither will ever wonder about what could have been.  
Draco lifts her chin, he wants it to hurt. Why doesn't it hurt? His fingers brush molten lava but for some fucked up reason it feels like water flowing from a warm spring. Please let this hurt. Let it leave a scar so that he never forgets what he has done and never dares to wonder if he has sinned. He gives her a moment to object, one that she uses only to close more space between them. Draco glances up at Y/n's eyes, hoping for some semblance of panic or fear, but she's too focused on observing the shape of his mouth to process the situation. He knows there is no going back, he knows that if the fire burns then it will destroy everything in its path entirely without mercy, and if it is extinguished then surely death will come by snow storm, one that leaves him starving and cold but accepting that the fire just wasn't for him; and that he was meant to be alone. With that final thought, he finally closes the space between them completely.  
The kiss was nothing like what he had hoped for. It didn't hurt. It did not burn, or maybe it did, but the heat was well-worth the scar it left. Her lips were not razor sharp or hot like torches, they were soft and inviting and innocent and lonesome; his could be described as the same, but far less innocent and vastly more lonesome.  
Push him away, she thought momentarily, but as the kiss deepened her thoughts seem to be cut off entirely, push... him... away. They parted for not but a second before repeating the same action, Y/n slid her hands up Draco's chest and around his neck; she was fearlessly drowning them in gasoline and the oldest of the pair didn't dare try and stop her. Kisses quickly cascaded from a comfortable warmth to a needy heat.  
He pulled her into his lap, hands began to wonder and they could hear it now; the crackle of the embers, soft breathes and small voices that heightened with every touch. Smoke clouded their minds. For better or for worse both parties completely lost consciousness of their decision making. They instinctually fed the flame however it desired. Neither knew how they got inside Draco's room or when Y/n ended up underneath him, but they could certainly feel the fire now; it roared loud as lions, flames licked the sky and consumed their entire beings.  
Anyone who had not spent years in the frigid forest Astoria abandoned her husband and child to would have declared the spark a work of the devil, something terribly wrong that should be avoided at all costs. Others would have said it is better to die frozen and alone than ever approach the forbidden flame, but they did not know what it was like. They didn't know that hell had frozen over and there was truly no other choice for two desperate souls but to give in. They needed the warmth, the comfort, the company... what was forbidden would exile all those who dare approach it, but it mattered not, for it was their only hope of survival in this frigid storm; outsiders be damned. They found an escape, 

They will burn together.


End file.
